Mouse in a Box
by Jon-Ur
Summary: Pokémon training had never been his thing. When most of his friends—all two of them—turned ten, they hurried to Professor Oak's to get their first pocket monster. Not him. So when he finds a Pichu abandoned in an alley, it comes as a surprise to him when he takes it home with him and takes care of it. But will he keep it or will he give it up? Read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

**Mouse in a Box**

Thunder rumbled overhead, and several people began to either run for cover or pull out umbrellas. David scowled. _Should have left earlier,_ he thought, shifting his weight to better support the brown bag in his hand. He had made his weekly trip to Vermillion City today, necessary because his own home of Canary Town had no grocery store; in fact, it didn't even have a Pokémon center. Six or seven houses, a convenience store, and an abandoned warehouse that had been turned into a makeshift town hall were the only things Canary town could boast. That was usually why Pokémon trainers didn't stop by.

Small as it was, David had been born there, and that was his home. He had inherited his home—a small, one-floor house with a small backyard and five rooms—when his parents had passed two years ago. So, at twenty-one, he was still living in his childhood home. Lucky him.

His sister, born two years after him, was a full-time Pokémon trainer. David only saw her once or twice every few months, and that was only because they spoke over the phone at Vermillion City's Pokémon center. She was in Sinnoh right now, working on getting all her gym badges. That was all fine with David; as long as she was happy, he was happy.

Pokémon training had never been his thing. When most of his friends—all two of them—turned ten, they hurried to Professor Oak's to get their first pocket monster. Not him. No, at ten he was just fine staying in his house, drawing away. That wasn't to say he _dislike_ Pokémon, per se. He just…preferred not to have one. Simple as that.

He was a full-time artist now, and while that wasn't the most well-paying profession, it was one he loved. His meager sales and some of his parents' inheritance was enough to keep him financially stable for now.

"Dang it," David muttered under his breath as the rain began to pour down on him. He pushed the once-spikey black hair out of his eyes and onto his forehead. There was still a thirty-minute walk home, and the rain didn't look like it would let out any time soon. Sure enough, a loud thunder-crash shook the ground as a bolt of lightning lit the sky.

"Wonderful."

As he passed two buildings, he heard a soft sound—almost like a sneeze or hiccup.

Poking his head into the small alleyway, he called out, "Hello?"

When nobody responded, he turned and began to walk away…

…until he heard it again—a soft whimper, almost a cry. He shifted his weight again and walked down the short alleyway. It opened to a small area in between four close-together buildings where a green dumpster stood half-open.

And a small cardboard box.

As he crept closer, he saw a small, plump rodent curled inside the box, shaking. It had black-edged diamond-shaped ears that were tucked against its head. The area around its neck was black, almost like a collar, and its lightning bolt-shaped tail was all black too.

 _It's just some Pokémon,_ David thought. _Leave it alone._ But the small yellow thing had already noticed him and had opened one of its tiny black eyes. As it untangled itself, David noticed that there were small scratches and bruises along its body, like something had clawed at it.

"Um. Hello."

The Pokemon—a Pichu, if he was correct; it was too small to be a Pikachu, and didn't have the right coloring to be a Raichu, not to mention the size difference—stood up and looked at him with teary eyes. "Pi?"

David swallowed. He had never been good with small children, so a _Pokémon_ was completely beyond his realm of expertise. "Shoo," he said. "Go find someplace else to stay. It's wet out here."

The Pichu just stared at him silently, a small frown on its lips.

"There's a Pokémon center a few blocks away; they'll probably let you stay until the storm lets up."

Still, the Pichu was silent.

 _Just go_ , some part of him said. _It doesn't understand._ Still, he couldn't just walk away. Something about the little thing's eyes made him feel bad for letting it stay in the cold.

"You can't come with me. So…it's either the Pokémon center or that box. Choose." When a sniffle escaped, something twisted inside David's chest. _Just for one day,_ he thought, sighing. _Just till the storm lets up._

He bent down slowly, reaching for the Pichu's neck. "Fine, you can come home with me. But only for one night."

The little thing flinched when his fingers got too close, and David held back for a second. Then, slowly, he offered his hand, palm out. The Pichu sniffed at it, then relaxed. David grasped the scruff of the tiny mouse's neck gently, then lifted it out of the box and stored it inside his coat pocket.

"Stay in there for now," he told it, and it seemed like it understood, because he felt it get comfortable a few seconds later and go still.

David hurried home, eager to both get out of the rain and to get the Pichu into something warm. When he shoved his door open after fitting the key into the lock one-handed, he shook his shoes off, put the grocery bag on the living room coffee table, and pulled the Pichu out of his pocket. It was shivering, body shaking all over. Both of them were soaked, so David stripped down to his underwear and put some logs into the fireplace. A few minutes later a fire was lit and the wet clothes had been hung from the mantle.

Then he went into the bathroom and got a face-towel out of the cabinet beneath the sink. The Pichu protested when it ran the towel over it, but calmed down when it understood what he was doing. Then, he got a spare blanket out of the guest bedroom—his sister's former room—and placed the Pichu on it. After that, he placed it in front of the fire, making sure not to put it too close. The Pichu purred and opened its eyes.

When it saw him, it smiled and said, "Chu!," which he took to be some show of gratitude.

"Don't get too comfortable," David said, "we're going to the Pokémon center tomorrow and printing out some missing posters." If there was a trainer who had lost his Pokémon, then he wanted to return it before it got used to him. If not, the Pokémon center would likely still take it in. "Not to mention you need to be fixed up." The Pichu paid him no mind, instead choosing to let out a yawn and go to sleep.

David rolled his eyes and brought the groceries to the small kitchen-dining room, where he put them all in their allotted shelves. After that he made himself a quick bowl of noodles, ate, rinsed the dishes, and brushed his teeth. Then he showered and changed into a pair of sleep shorts and crawled into bed.

 _Tomorrow that Pokémon'll be off my hands,_ he told himself, snuggling into the warm blankets. _And all this will be behind me._

* * *

A/N: So, this was a little fic idea I came up with after seeing a rather depressing picture of a Pichu abandoned in a box. Don't know if this'll be a full story or not, but if it's something you want to see, let me know. Reviews, follows, and favorites would all be greatly appreciated.

Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

**Mouse in a Box**

 **Chapter Two**

David woke to the sun shining through the window to the right of his bed. He blinked twice, yawned, and relaxed into his bed. _Don't wanna get up…_ he thought, just like he did every morning. He ran a hand through his spikey black hair, rubbing circles into his scalp with his fingers. Outside, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, a vivid contrast to the gale last night. David was about to close his eyes and go back to sleep when he felt something _wiggle_ against him. His eyes shot open, and his heart skipped a beat.

 _What the f—?_

He quickly bunched the blanket around whatever was on him and threw it off of the bed. He was on his feet almost immediately, squatting on his mattress, ready to jump out the window if necessary.

The bundle on the floor wiggled once, twice, then the blanket moved and a yellow head poked out. "Piiiiii…" The Pokémon shook its head, bringing a hand out to rub its head.

David was not amused. "Oh, it's just you," he said, sinking into a sitting position, legs crossed.

The Pichu blinked and looked up at him. Immediately a big smile spread its way onto its face. "Pichu! Pi pi Pichu!" It wiggled out of the blanket and scrambled up the bed. Then it climbed into his lap and began nuzzling his belly.

"I thought you were supposed to stay in your basket," David said, but he was less angry now that he saw a bug hadn't managed to crawl into his home. Idly, he scratched the Pokémon's ear. It let out a coo, then its cheeks started sparkling and a shock went through David's stomach.

He yelped and pushed the Pichu off him. It looked up, confused. "Chu?"

"Get off!" he commanded, pointing. "Off, now." When it didn't move he said, "Off, or I throw you off."

It got the message, slowly crawling off the bed. "Chu…" It looked back at him, sad.

"Be thankful I didn't kick you off the first time." He ran a hand through his hair. "Go wait in the kitchen; I'll get breakfast started in a few minutes."

The Pichu perked up, quickly running out the bedroom door. David lay back down. _I should've locked it,_ he thought. Sighing, he rolled off the bed and began to fix the blanket. _Only a few more hours._ Then he took off his sleep shorts, threw them in the laundry hamper, and put on a pair of black sweatpants. He was pulling a white tank top over his head when the sound of something shattering caught his attention.

"What was that?" he yelled, quickly pulling his shirt down over his head.

The noise came from the kitchen, and David saw from the doorway that one of his glass bowls had broken in the middle of the floor. His kitchen was small: a fridge, oven, washing machine, dryer, microwave, wooden cabinets and drawers for silverware and power tools. A small dining table surrounded by four chairs stood in the middle of the floor, and a glass sliding door opened to a tiny backyard surrounded by a white picket fence.

One of the cabinet doors was open, and the Pichu was standing on the shelf inside. David had a sudden urge to kick it. "Get down!" Growling, he grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and pulled it away. It cried out and an electric shock went up his arm. He yelled and dropped it, shaking his hand to make sure he wasn't injured.

"Go," he said through gritted teeth. "Go wait in the living room." He gave it a firm nudge with his foot. It stopped in the doorway and turned back. "Piii…"

 _One…_ he thought slowly, using a trick he'd learned from dealing with his sister's antics. _Two…Three…Four…Five…_

He sighed. "Come on." He crossed through the doorway to the living room and walked to the coffee table. He made a mental note to get rid of the basket and wash the blanket before they left. "Here," he said, picking up the remote for the TV and hitting _on_. The screen flickered to life, showing a news reporter talking about the weather. The Pichu climbed onto the table, watching the screen with rapt interest. "You can use this to flip through the channels," he explained, putting the remote down in front of the yellow mouse. "Stay here while I make the food." He left the Pichu there.

After sweeping up the shattered bowl and throwing the remains in the trash, David pulled a pan out of the pantry and went over to the cabinet where the breakfasts were kept. _It's been a stressful day so far,_ he thought, even though he'd only been awake for about twenty minutes, _so…chocolate chip pancakes._ Pulling the box out of the cabinet, he got to work. He poured enough batter into the pan to make three pancakes, but left it out in case he wanted more.

After flipping the pancakes, he went to the fridge and pulled out the container of strawberries. Cutting off the stems and then slicing them into bite-sized pieces, he put them in a bowl. _Hope it likes fruit._ Then he flipped the pancakes again and poured some water into a little bowl. "Pichu," he called, "food's ready."

The little mouse came scurrying into the room, saying "Pi pi pi pi Pichu pi" excitedly. David put the two bowls down in front of it and said, "Try not to break these two." The Pichu stuck its tongue out at him and dug in, eating quickly.

David took a plate out of the cabinet and flipped the pancakes onto it. Then he turned the stove off and got some butter, milk, and syrup out. Pouring himself a glass of milk, he spread a square of butter around on his plate. Then, after letting it melt somewhat, he poured syrup of the stack. Licking his lips, he dug into the food quickly, and the kitchen was filled with the sounds of munching and slurping as both person and Pokémon dug into their food.

After eating two of his pancakes, David heard a voice coming from the living room. _TV's still on,_ he thought, getting up. Sure enough, the television was still showing images of a news report. David picked up the remote and turned it off. Then he turned and walked back into the kitchen and—

"Hey!"

The Pichu—face covered with syrup and chocolate—turned around, with David's third pancake still in its claws, a noticeable dent made in it. "Pi!" it said, spewing crumbs from its still-open mouth.

"My pancake," David said. The Pichu took another bite. He thought about getting angry and yelling, but decided against it when he saw the fruit had already been eaten and the water already drunk. Instead, he sighed and began making preparations for more pancakes.

He was pouring the batter when something nudged his arm. He turned and saw the Pichu standing there.

"Yes?" he asked, annoyed.

In response, the Pichu held out a little piece of batter—the last piece of pancake.

David sighed. "Thanks, little guy." He rubbed the Pichu's head; it cooed and nuzzled his palm.

Rather than shoo it away, he decided he might as well keep it close. "You wanna help?" he asked. The Pichu nodded eagerly. "Alright, first…"

They made another three pancakes—one for Pichu, two for David. "Here," David said, nudging the largest one toward the Pichu. Its face lit up and it started trying to eat it immediately. David, meanwhile, began to cut into his with his fork and knife.

"You need a bath," he said when they were done. The dishes had all been washed and put away, and David had just gotten back from brushing his teeth.

"Pi?" it asked, fur sticky from the syrup.

"Come on." David picked it up by the scruff of its neck and began to carry it into the bathroom. It didn't protest until it was dropped into the cold granite sink, and then it was only a shiver and an indignant whine.

"Don't shock me," David said, turning on the water. He tested it with his fingers before cupping his hands and dumping the water gathered in them on the Pichu. It squirmed and tried to climb out, but when David said, "Get out and I'll take you out back and use the hose," it stopped moving and accepted it. David got the bar of soap and began to lather the Pichu with it, alternating between soap and water. "Lift your arms up." It did, and David scrubbed away the syrup that had been hidden under there. _How do you get syrup under your arms?_

When they were finished David turned off the water and began to dry it with a towel. Then David went to his bedroom to get changed into a pair of black jeans, a dark gray T-shirt, and a red and white jacket.

"Pichu," he called from the door, "come on, we're leaving."

It came scurrying out a moment later, hurrying over and leaping onto his shoulder. "Pi pi pi!"

David considered shooing it off him, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he opened the door and stepped out into the cool air.

The walk to Vermillion City was relatively peaceful, save for when Pichu would start wiggling, trying to get a better look at its surroundings. David scowled and kept his mouth shut, wishing the trip wasn't so long. Eventually though, the large Vermillion City skyscrapers came into view, and David let out a small sigh.

 _Almost there._

-o-

"Good morning, and welcome to the Pokémon Center," said the pink-haired woman in the pink dress and white apron.

"Hello," David said, smiling. He pulled the Pichu off his shoulders and plopped it on the desk. "Do you take in Pokémon?"

"For a short time, yes, before we can arrange to send it to a daycare or sanctuary. Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "You aren't planning on abandoning your Pokémon, are you?"

"It's not mine," he said, annoyed. "I found it behind a dumpster in the rain."

Her face softened. "Oh, I see." She smiled. "Then, we can certainly look after it!" She gestured, and a Chancy waddled over and picked it up under its armpits, almost like a baby.

As it began to walk away, the Pichu let out a panicked cry and began squirming. It managed to wriggle out of the Chancy's grip and hop back onto the desk, holding out its arms. "Pi!"

"It's okay, Pichu, I'm right here," David said. "But I need you to go with Nurse Joy now, okay? She's gonna make sure you aren't sick."

It looked at the pink-haired woman, who smiled, and back at him. It tugged on his jacket and pointed to the door behind the desk. "Pi…"

"I can't go with you." David pulled free of its grip. "But I'll be right here, understand?"

It didn't look happy, but it understood.

"Can you go with Nurse Joy now?"

"It'll be okay, sweetie," she said, smiling.

Pichu looked back at him, black eyes shining, and pointed.

"Yes, I'll be right over there. Promise."

Pichu lets itself be led away, looking over its shoulder at him the whole time. When it was gone, Nurse Joy sighed and said, "You were so good with it."

"Thank you."

"You know," she mumbled, "I would be happy to draw up some adoption papers, if you like."

He scowled. "No."

"But—"

"I said no. I don't want it. That's why I'm _here_."

Now she was scowling. "I see."

"Good. It's _your_ job to make sure Pokémon are healthy, not mine." He sighed. "You got a printer? I want to hang some flyers."

"Right over there," she pointed. "Thirty-five cents per paper; twenty if you want to use the stapler."

"Thank you," he said, and went to the printer.

He spent the next hour and a half hanging or handing out flyers for the lost Pichu; the notice included a picture, basic information, and the Pokémon Center's phone number and address. He briefly considered dropping by the Center before he left, but decided against it. No use getting it worked up if they weren't going to see each other again.

-o-

David woke to the sound of something clicking off the window. When he opened his eyes and looked outside, he saw that it was still dark out. The clock on the wall read 3:26 a.m. Signing, David rolled over and tried to go back to sleep…

…until another click came from the window. He growled and rolled off the bed, going to the window. When he saw there was nothing there, he grabbed a baseball bat out of his closet and began to walk toward the front door. As he got closer, he thought he heard something scratching at the door.

 _One…two…three…now!_ He pulled the door open quickly, ready to use his bat if necessary. But there was nobody there. He looked out, trying to see if someone was hiding, but didn't see anything.

"Piii…"

 _No…_ Looking down, he saw the tiny Pichu standing on his porch, lips quivering as tears welled up in its eyes.

Sighing, David bent down. "You should be at the Pokémon Center."

"Pi…" it said, wiping its eye with an arm.

"How'd you even get here?"

"P-pi Pichu."

Sighing, David rubbed his eyes. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now. Come on." When it made no effort to come inside, David grunted and spread his arms. Immediately, the tiny Pokémon jumped into him, crying softly against his chest. David sighed and carried it up to his bedroom.

"You want to stay here, don't you?" If a Pokémon as small as it was willing to make the distance, surely it liked it here?

The Pichu nuzzled into his chest, wiping its tears away. "Pi…"

He sighed. "You can stay till someone comes to claim you, but you leave after that. Understand?"

"Pi," it mumbled, already falling asleep.

"Good."

* * *

A/N: Please tell me what you thought.

Bye!


End file.
